Come As You Are
by HerBlackWings85
Summary: Part 3 of my series rewrite. Sam triple lindyed into the pit. River and Dean are left to pick up the pieces. Then Sam comes back and things go sideways. Rate M for the usual: language, violence, sex, mature subjects
1. Come as You Are ch 1

Authors Note: This is part 3 of a series rewrite. I own nothing except River.

Part 1: Still Breathing

Part 2: Empire of Dirt

Part 3: Come as You Are

Chapter 1

Then

"I said Yes."

Now

Sam had been gone 36 hours.

A day and a half since his younger brother fought and broke Lucifers grip on his very soul to gain control long enough to open the portal to the Cage. A day and half since Sam sent not only himself and Lucifer, but Adam and Michael to Hell. The Cage was sealed, the Apocalypse derailed at the last possible minute. The death toll from Lucifer's streak of un-natural disasters had been high but no where near the astronomical number it would have been if the Archangels been allowed to have their prize fight. Dean took some comfort in that. He took more comfort in the woman sitting across from him.

One corner of River's mouth curved up in a small enigmatic smile. She stared at the ring on her finger like it might disappear if she looked away. Eventually she'd feel his eyes on her and she'd look away from the ring giving him a Mona Lisa smile, like they were only two in on the Universes funniest, cruelest joke. And they kind of were, besides Bobby and Castiel, no one would ever know what had gone down in that forgotten cowboy cemetery in the middle of Kansas.

They would have made it to Las Vegas hours ago if Dean didn't keep pulling over. Each time the feeling of maddening grief simmered too close to the surface he stopped the car, barely waiting for the tires to leave the asphalt before hungrily pulling at her clothes. He'd bury himself inside her, fucking her until the pain ebbed away. And she let him; murmuring into his ears that is was going to be ok, she wasn't going anywhere, she was with him. The tears he wouldn't let fall blinding him until he could reign in the pain and anger, the lifetime of regret and loss. His eyes meeting hers as she clung to him, her flushed body pressing against him, sounds of pleasure bordering on pain escaping her lips as the punishing pace of his hips slammed into her hard enough to push her across the vinyl seat towards the door. And then the pain would slowly retreat, the pain of losing his brother replaced by the sudden realization that for once in his life he could get what he wanted. He could have a life, a family, he could be happy if he wanted to be. To quote The Smiths, 'Lord knows it would be the first time'. He'd pull out of her slowly, letting her feel every inch of him as he retreated. Dean's lips would meet hers, every emotion coursing though his body coming to play in the way he kissed her. She'd moan into his mouth, hips squirming against him, begging him to finish what he started, to not leave her so frustratingly close to the edge. He'd give her what she needed, what they both needed. A few more minutes where they didn't have to dwell on pain or loss. And when she would come undone underneath him, or on top of him, or in front of him, or any other position they'd contort themselves into to get to that sweet moment of oblivion it would reinforce the burning need in his soul to be the only man that ever made her feel that good. From now on when she screamed his name it would only ever be in the throes of a toe curling orgasm and not because she was screaming in terror of losing him. He promised his brother he would live his life and he was going to, with her, if it was the last thing he did.

"I'm starving," River grumbled rubbing her growling stomach as she pulled her jeans up and over her bare ass, Dean having ripped her underwear in his rush during their last pitstop.

"Can you wait a little longer?" Dean asked her as he pulled back onto the highway.

She combed her fingers through her after-sex hair and smiled. " I need to eat. What are we waiting for?"

"I'm gonna marry you before you chicken out. We're gonna get hitched, then I'll take you wherever you want to eat."

River laughed, "I'm not gonna chicken out. You're gonna chicken out-"

"No way, Princess. I put a ring on it. You're mine."

She rolled her eyes. "Newsflash Einstein I've always been yours."

"Yeah well now it's gonna be official. There's a drive thru chapel downtown we don't even have to get out of Baby. Curb side service." He gave her a big goofy grin, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

"A drive thru? Really?"

Dean shrugged his shoulders, "Yeah why not?"

She sighed, "I mean I'm not asking for a storybook wedding here. But you've fucked me four times since this morning. I'm not feeling like the freshest flower in the bouquet right now. I just need thirty minutes for a shower, maybe wash my hair and shave my legs. Put some mascara on…"

He'd waited thirty years to start his life he could wait a few more hours. "You got something to wear?" He asked her as they passed into Las Vegas city limits.

"Yeah, I keep a wedding dress at the bottom of my duffle just in case." She snarked back as her stomach growled minutes later Dean was parking Baby outside a giant shopping mall. He pulled a credit card out of his wallet and held it out to her. "Meet me at the Orange Julius in an hour."

River stared at the plastic card he held, "I still need a shower."

"Will you quit being a pain in my ass and go get something to wear?" Dean replied walking towards the foodcourt.

River stood in front of the mall directory for almost half an hour. She'd been killed, resurrected and one of her best friends was in Hell. All in less than two days. Raw emotions bounced through her psyche in no particular order; anger, sadness, relief that the world was still spinning. A big part of her still wanted to find a hole and drink until she blacked out. If she let any one emotion sink in she was afraid she'd crack and shatter like an eggshell; fall to the floor in an insane grieving mess in front of the 'Sunglass Hut'. The only thing keeping her glued together was the promise she made to Sam. She would take care of Dean. And she'd be god damned if she didn't keep her promise. So instead of screaming at the hordes of blissfully ignorant people that didn't know Sam Winchester had willingly gone to Hell to give them another day to rack up credit card debt, she was going to marry the man patiently waiting in the food court. And she needed something to wear. And make up. And shoes. "Damn it. Move your ass." She muttered angrily to herself realizing she'd already blown through half her shopping time in a daze.

She was five minutes late meeting Dean at the Orange Julius. She could tell by the way his shoulders twitched nervously he was on edge again. His eyes met hers through the sea of shoppers and he relaxed a fraction. River held up her various bags of goods, "I think I maxed out this card. They had to run it three times before it went through."

"I got another one. Here, eat. It's a veggie dog." He handed her a battered and fried thing on a stick. "I think I need round five before our next stop. The adult top 40 is setting my teeth on edge." Dean told her taking the bags out of her arms. After round five commenced in a dark corner of the parking structure Dean drove them to one of the biggest, fanciest hotels on the strip. He handed Baby's keys to the Valet and then they migrated through the colossal casino. Dean leading like he knew exactly where he was going, River at his side with a bemused smile.

The whirling roulette wheels and loud jangling slot machines transitioned into a long semi quiet hallway. "D, where the fuck are going?" She finally asked. He sighed instead of answering her and disappeared into a group of drunk tourists when River was distracted by something shiny and useless in one of the cheesy casino shops. She wondered away from the shop following the only direction Dean could have gone. A glitzy day spa, 'Dolce Vita', appeared around the corner. She would have thought she somehow took a wrong turn if she hadn't seen Dean standing at the front counter looking through the spa menu when she stepped up to him. "Baby, what are you doing?" she whispered looking over his shoulder.

"She'll take the 'Blushing Bride' special. We're getting married. Today," Dean told the woman behind the counter ignoring River's eyes boring into the back of his head. The woman gave a generic congratulation as she took the shiny black card Dean had pulled from the folds of his wallet.

"Dean this is ridiculous. I just wanted a shower-" River hissed at him.

Dean handed her her bags of clothing and accessories. "I'm gonna go try my luck at the blackjack table for a while. Meet me at the Sports Bar when your done." He leaned down and kissed her gently on the lips leaving her in a surprised stupor.

The Spa was amazing, like nothing she'd ever experienced. A hot sauna with eucalyptus mist, a full body massage, waxing and exfoliating in all the important places. There was even an expansive dressing room, with rows of brightly lit mirrors where she got dressed. The Sports Bar was easy enough to find when she was done. Dean sat next to an old wino watching the horse races. Her green eyed hunter wore a devilish smirk that told her he must have done exceedingly well at the Blackjack table. He happened to glance over his shoulder and watched her walk towards him his jaw threatening to hit the polished bar in front of him. She'd gone for a touch of punk rock instead of Barbie dream wedding, choosing a knee length silvery-grey strapless tulle dress and her much loved Converse hi-tops. "Quit staring Winchester. You're making me nervous." She muttered taking the forgotten beer from his hand and chugging it, hoping the alcohol would help her relax.

"You thinking about chickening out?" He asked as she waived the bar tender over for another drink.

"No. Are you?" She replied taking cold bottle of beer.

Deans eyes slowly trailed over her again, "Nope. Chapels this way." He grabbed her hand and led her through he casino in a different direction than what they had already explored.

There was a wedding party ahead of them. The bride, wearing a puffy, sparkly white dress was barking orders at her half dozen bridesmaids, all wearing identical hideous fuchsia dresses. The groom was being held up by a couple of his best men a glazed, glassy eyed stare frozen on his too drunk face.

"She looks like a fucking cupcake," River muttered a little too loudly. Dean gave her hand a warning squeeze as they stepped up to the counter for their paperwork. They spent the next half hour going through their collection of fake IDs trying to choose which names to put on the marriage license since technically they were both still supposed to be dead. "You are not using Hugh Jurection on our marriage certificate." She said through giggles as she forged her address and parents names.

"Then you don't get to use Connie Lingus." Dean said taking the plastic ID out of her hand. She laughed harder, earning a stern stare from the woman behind the registration desk. "Ok, shit. We gotta be serious. Or we're gonna get caught." He muttered giving the woman an awe-shucks-don't-mind-us smile. They decided on names and handed their paperwork and fake ID's over.

"Plant- Nicks wedding you're up!" A staticy voice crackled over the intercom . River swallowed nervously as she and Dean made their way to the frosted glass doors and waited to be escorted into the chapel. The non-denominational minister waited behind a plain wooden pulpit reviewing their papers.

"You're Mr. Robert Plant?" The minister asked Dean.

Dean smiled and nodded, "Yes, Sir."

The minster nodded and checked a box on the papers, "And you are Ms. Stevie Nicks." River nodded. "Where's your witness?"

"Witness?" River asked.

The Minister gave an annoyed sigh, "Per Nevada municipal code 53-B all wedding proceedings must be witnessed by a third party..."

"It's just us. We don't have any-" River started looking between Dean and the other man. Stopping the Apocalypse: Check. Getting engaged to Dean Winchester and rushing to tie the knot before the next storm of shit inevitably rained down on them: Check. Passing off half assed fake ID's: Check. Witness for said marriage: nope.

Dean gave the minister an easy smile, "Uncle Buzz. Of course! I'll be right back." He took off running out of the chapel leaving River to nervously bounce on the balls of her feet. He returned after five of the longest minutes of her life towing the Wino with him. The old drunk swayed on his feet, pocketed the $50 bill Dean slipped him and tipped his hat to the Minister signaling he could continue with the ceremony.

Fifteen minutes and a couple of signatures later and they were married. Technically, Robert Plant and Stevie Nicks were married in what had to be the most awesome rock band crossover ever, but it strangely fit them and their crazy lives. The vows of loving, honoring, and comforting one another from now until the end of time were said as themselves. Uncle Buzz stumbled back towards the sports bar leaving River and Dean standing in a hushed silence as if they couldn't believe they just got away with that. "What the fuck do we do now?" River asked.

Dean smirked, pulling her flush against his chest and kissed her hungrily. "Now we enjoy the next three days in our suite. I'm warning you now: this is the last time you'll be wearing clothes until we check out."

"Dean, we can't afford three days in a suite in this hotel." She replied.

He smirked again, "There's a fine line between winning just enough at the tables to start getting all sorts of crazy comps and getting kicked the fuck out. I stoped just shy of the wrong side of that line." He pulled a plastic key card out his pocket and held it up to her eyes. Dean attacked her in the private elevator they had to take to get to the suite floor. His hands shoving her dress up and pushing her lacy panties to the side, lips kissing the most sensitive spots on her neck all the while whispering every kinky thing he was planning on doing to her once they got in their room. The elevator dinged open and Dean's lips and teasing fingers were gone leaving her shaking and gasping for air.

Every storybook wedding ends with the groom carrying the bride over the threshold into their new life as a married couple. Tonight was no different. Dean swooped her up and carried her into the lavish suite, kicking the door closed behind him. She squirmed out of his arms to explore while he started pulling his boots and layers of clothes off. "They have little bottles of shampoo and conditioner!" she yelled happily from the bathroom.

"Get your clothes off and come out here!" He yelled back kicking his jeans into a pile on the floor and running one hand up his hard length. He needed to fuck and drink and bury the pain deep down before it caused him to explode. Every minute that ticked by were days his brother had already been in Hell suffering who knows what excruciating tortures. River stepped out of the bathroom unzipping her dress and letting it fall from her soft body. Dean surrounded her, pressing her back against the wall, panties ripped away and tossed aside in his rush to be inside her. He took her right there, lifting her up so she could wrap her legs around his hips and sunk into her in one quick thrust.

They spent the next three days in a haze of sex and alcohol. River tried getting Dean to talk about Sam's final moments, about their childhood, about anything but each time he'd clam up shaking his head and telling her he didn't need to talk about it. It was done. There was no going back.

They drifted away from Vegas just as the Casino caught on to their skimmed credit card. Dean picked a direction and no destination, no plans, no discussion on what came next. They were living in a bubble and it was only a matter of time before it popped.

Authors note: hello again. I had a moment where I suddenly hated this story. I think I'm over that episode. I want to keep writing about River and Dean but I'm also working on a few other things also. thank you for reading.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Three months later

River's feet hurt from working a double at the bar. Her lower back was sore from unloading boxes of frozen chicken wings from the delivery truck. Dean wasn't answering his cellphone and was thirty minutes late picking her up. Again. The transmission on her car had gone out last week and he had promised to fix it. Eventually.

The bubble had fucking popped.

"Fucking alcoholic asshole." She muttered angrily to herself deciding to walk their apartment four miles on the wrong side of town. This was supposed to be a break. A pause in hunting and jumping between cases. A chance to settle down and center themselves. Now it was River working at a shitty bar to make rent while Dean drank himself to an early death. He hadn't been sober in weeks. It had started slowly. Nightmares. Curt greetings in the morning. Him falling asleep on the couch. Then it was empty bottles of whiskey and beer everywhere. Sex was a fond memory from their honeymoon. Dean hadn't touched her in weeks, being too drunk and cold for that to even be an option. She'd tried talking to him. Begged him to open up to her. To Bobby. To fucking anyone instead of shutting down. "I'll be fine. Just give me some space." Was all he would slur before drinking until he blacked out.

The Impala was parked roughly against the curb in front of their apartment. A long streak of chipped white paint marred the once sleek, glossy black paint of the passenger door. "Ahh Baby what the fuck did he do now?" She murmured touching the newest dents on the car. Her beat up Toyota was still in pieces on the driveway. She'd paid $500 cash from Dean's Vegas winnings for it when she realized their layover was lasting too long. The apartment was dark and the front door swung open when she placed her key in the lock. River silently dropped her bag and pulled her gun from behind her back. They hadn't been hunting in months, that didn't mean she'd stopped being a hunter. She stepped inside the dark apartment and waited for her eyes to adjust before moving further inside.

She choked back the urge to call out for him. He could have gone out on a hunt by himself, to clear his head, and been injured and was now bleeding out in some dark corner of their apartment. Or someone or something had got the jump on him and brought him and the car back in a hurry because there was no a way a rational, heathy Dean would have let Baby been so badly damaged. She slid slowly along the far wall that led from the entrance to the kitchen and then into the living room. Both were empty. She was trying not to get nervous. Her palms were sweaty and her heartbeat was drumming away in her ears. Something creaked upstairs and she turned towards the dark stairs. She knew where to step to avoid making any noise and silently ascended to the second floor. The bathroom was empty. She stepped through the doorway into their bedroom, her foot caught on something solid and she almost fell on her face.

Dean was sprawled on the floor in front of their unmade bed. An empty bottle of NyQuil still loosely gripped in his hand. A sticky ring of green syrup clung to his lips. River tucked her gun back into her jeans as she kneeled down to check his pulse. It was strong and steady. He grunted in his anti-histamine induced stupor as River sat heavily on the ground next to him. "I can't do this anymore hot stuff," she said quietly brushing his dirty hair out of his face. She closed her eyes and prayed. She'd been praying a lot lately. Praying to Gabriel to let him know how disappointed he'd be in how 'Dexter' had ended; that she really, really, really needed a vacation, and that she just fucking missed the shit out of him. She prayed to Castiel for help, for guidance, to come kick the shit out Dean for her. She opened one eye mid prayer hoping that Cas would finally answer and come for a chat. He did not appear so she sent him a mental fuck you before standing up and stretching her stiff back. Dean snored loudly as she walked out of the bedroom and into the hallway. She was lonely, she needed to talk to someone other than the unconscious man at her feet. She pulled her cellphone out of her pocket, scrolled through the short list of contacts. Half the people were dead. She paused on Bobby's number fully intending to call him and finally give him the official news she and Dean had got hitched. She also knew he already knew because Rufus the paranoid crotchety bastard hunter that was Bobby's best enemy and oldest living friend who 'knew things' had told him hours after it happened.

Instead she scrolled down and punched in Jody's number before she had time to second guess herself. "Sheriff Mills." Jody answered on the second ring and River smiled at her voice. She'd reached out to Jody weeks earlier just needing someone she had deemed mostly-sane to speak to. And who better than the bad ass lady Sheriff of Sioux Falls who had seen and lived through more than her fair share of grief, death and monsters.

"Hey Jody. Working the graveyard shift again?" River said quietly.

"River, hey girl. Yeah I got a deputy out with the flu. How's married life treating you?" Jody replied shutting her office door.

River sighed. "Great. Everything's great." Her voice cracked and she pressed her thumb and forefinger into her eyes trying to stop herself from blubbering over the phone.

"Bullshit it is. It's almost midnight. He forget to pick you up again?" Jody asked.

River nodded like Jody could see her. "He's…fucking passed out on the bedroom floor. He crashed the car-" She walked out of their apartment and out into the cool night air where she sat heavily on the front step.

"Baby?" Jody asked disbelieving.

"Yeah. Fuck. Jody's he's really far gone. He drank a whole bottle of cold medicine and chased it with god knows how much whiskey…" She took a deep stuttering breath. "I'm losing him. He's killing himself…I don't what the fuck to do." She lost the fight with her emotions and cried with the phone shaking against her ear. Jodi remained silent for several long minutes letting River get herself under control.

"After Owen died, me and Mike had some problems…"Jody started. "We kind of forgot what is was to live. Mike started drinking and it got bad. It got real bad. One day I had enough and I had to remind him what is was to live." River sniffed again, rubbed her arms in the cold night air and listened to Jody. She didn't notice the white panel van parked across the street. Dean hadn't noticed the van either in his inebriated state.

"Looks like the Honeymoons over," Samuel said quietly as he and the man next to him watched the copper haired woman across the street bury her head in her arms, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

Sam shifted in his seat and sighed. He was bored. They had been watching the apartment for hours, waiting to see if Dean reemerged and what state he'd be in if he did. It had been Samuel's idea to check in on his brother. Sam couldn't really be bothered to give a shit at this point. The hollowness in his core making him feel somehow lighter and stronger than before. He knew old Sam would be sitting next to River, letting her cry out her frustrations while they made a plan to force Dean back on track. Or maybe if old Sam had been there Dean would never have sunk so low. "Given Dean's track record the next step in personal sabotage will be to start fucking around on his wife. We could just wait for that." Sam said rolling his stiff shoulders.

Samuel looked across the seat at him. "Your brother gets his act together or he stays in the dark for good. I'm not letting him anywhere near our job in the state he's in." Sam nodded once. Across the street River stood up, tucked her phone into her pocket and returned inside the dark apartment.

Dean woke up to the tempting aroma of coffee. He smacked his dry lips and opened his crusty eyes. Early morning sunlight filtered into the bedroom. He was on the floor with no memory of how he got there. He vaguely remembered finishing the one bottle of whiskey the yahoo at the Stop 'n' Sip had let him buy and in desperation of a blackout tore through the medicine cabinet until he found the leftover bottle of cold medicine. Gone were both the empty bottle of whiskey and NyQuil. In its place just inches from his fingertips was a bottle of orange flavored Gatorade, his favorite, with a yellow sticky note, "Drink this. Take a fucking shower. Come downstairs," written in Rivers messy scrawl. "Fuck." He mumbled heaving himself off the floor. He heard cabinets slam shut and metallic clangs from pots and pans being rearranged in the kitchen.

When he got out of the shower the mouthwatering scents of baked apples, cinnamon and bacon had joined the fresh coffee. Dean found River sitting at their dinged up kitchen table eating a slice of apple pie. She didn't look at him or offer any greeting as he sat down across from her. A plate heaped high with scramble eggs, bacon and fried potatoes waited for him. He sat down quietly, afraid to move too quickly. He'd rather face a cave of hungry Wendigos then the 5'4'' woman silently eating pie. "Sweetheart, Princess I'm so-" he started.

"Shut the fuck up Dean." She said spearing a fallen slice of apple. He nodded, folding his hands in his lap like a scolded child. "Do you remember him?" River asked sliding a small, wrinkled color photo across the table. Dean picked the picture up with trembling fingers. It was the three of them; him, his girl and his little brother smiling in front of a Chinese restaurant named "Long Dongs". Being three highly mature adults they immediately pulled over when River saw the weather beaten sign from the highway, took a picture and ordered a metric ton of fried rice and egg rolls. It had been surprisingly good and worth the heartburn they all endured after.

"Riv-" He started again.

"Do you remember what he did for us? For the world?" She asked quietly. He set the picture down and ran his hands through his hair, willing the pain and anger back down. "He saved us. He saved all of us and you're pissing that away!"

"He's in Hell River!" Dean yelled shoving his plate onto the floor. "He's gone! I had one god damn job: take care of Sam! I fucking failed! What the hell am I supposed to do?"

River sat back in her chair wiping at tears that were falling down her cheeks. "You're supposed to live! Live for him! Live for us!" She yelled back pushing herself away from the table. " You want to talk about jobs? Sam asked me to do one thing: to take care of you! And I am failing at that spectacularly!"

She brushed past him, heading for the stairs. "River-" He grabbed her arm and pulled her towards him. "I'm sorry. I'll get my shit together," he said wrapping his arms around her. "I'll take care of you. I'll take care of us. That's the job Sam gave me." She stiffened before melting into him. "Lets get the hell out here. I hate this fucking town." He murmured into her hair.

She laughed against his chest, "Me too. If I have to serve up one more basket of hot wings I'm gonna lose my shit."

Now

Another six months had passed. Dean had got his shit together and been mostly sober since that night with the cold medicine. Mostly sober because he and River both still had rough nights were a few shots of stiff alcohol and lots of orgasms were the only thing that allowed then to catch a few hours of sleep. They'd bounced around the states for a few months, finding empty cases and getting no closer to living life. Until one fateful newspaper article drew them to a cursed object case in northern Montana. A man had been found murdered in his cabin. No signs of forced entry. The deceased had no known enemies but had recently taken an interest in antiquing.

The cabin itself was well off the beaten path, a dozen miles from town and all but hidden in a fairytale-esque forrest. A mile long private driveway led to a stone and iron gate surrounding most of the property. A crystal clear lake, full of trout just waiting to be caught, was a ten minute walk away. The man's only living relative, a second cousin, was less than delighted when two true crime reporters showed up at his door doing research for their next podcast. The cabin was going to be impossible to sell with the current housing market and an unsolved mystery to boot it might as well be burned to the ground.

River and Dean located the cursed painting in the wood shed less than an hour into the investigation. River acting as decoy to get the man out of the house long enough for Dean to sneak the painting out back for a quick salt and burn. Dean returned giving her a thumbs up just as she and the man were discussing mortgage rates. "How about renting the cabin?" Dean asked him.

The man, Steven, laughed. "Rent? Who's going to want to rent the Curlew Lake Death House?"

"We'll rent it." Dean answered. Steven laughed again starring between the confused redhead at his side and the tall green eyed man next to her. "I can give you three months in advance. And I'll do some renovations. The garage door sticks and there's boards on the porch that need to be replaced…"

"Dean…" River started.

"Come on, sweetheart. This place is a dream. Secure, private, a lake I can fish at. Town's twenty minutes that way, lots of jobs in the area-" Dean said. "This could be our home base."

And just like that they had a home. They moved in with nothing more than two duffle bags of clothes and a sleeping bag. It rained that night. River crawled out of the sleeping bag, slipped Dean's discarded flannel shirt over her naked body and walked out onto the covered porch to watch the rain. Dean crept up behind her, hair tousled from sleep and their lovemaking from earlier. "Can't sleep?" He asked wrapping a flannel blanket over her shoulders.

She shook her head. "I didn't want to miss the rain."

Dean smiled burying his face in her neck, "You want to check out the vamp case in Hobson tomorrow?"

" 'course I do." She answered.

Dean found work at local auto shop and a part time gig as a bartender on weekends while River got a job as a 'pole fitness instructor'. Apparently middle class moms were into getting their sexy back and learning how to pole dance was just the ticket. They also kept tabs on any hunts within a fifty mile radius. Days were filled with earning enough to pay rent on the cabin. Nights were filled with hunting and sex. It worked. And they were happy living as normal a life as either one of them could have ever imagined.

If someone would have told Dean Winchester five years ago that sex with the same woman night after night would get better each time he wouldn't have believed it. Now he couldn't imagine being with anyone else. He knew every inch of her body, every sweet spot, exactly how to roll his hips or swirl his tongue to get the most amazing sounds out of her. He'd live and die watching her break into a million pieces and beg him for more.

"Come in Cosmonaut! I need three martinis, extra dirty, for table five." Regina snapped her fingers in his face. Regina tall, gorgeous and blonde with a bust to make Dolly Parton jealous had started at the bar just a week or so before and had taken an immediate shine to Dean Winchester. Dean for the most part had blown her off, turning down invites to hang out after work or have a few drinks with her.

Dean pulled himself out of his stupor, "On it." Regina laughed and looked through the window of the bar across the street where River and another instructor led a packed class at the "Pole Position" studio.

"Class over soon?" She asked.

Dean nodded and slid the martinis across the bar towards her. "Yep."

"Got a fun night planned?"

Dean shrugged his shoulders and started polishing glasses, his eyes darted to the opposite end of the bar where Mac the owner was serving last call to a stranger. "It's date night. Dinner, movie, bed before midnight…you know married life."

"No. I wouldn't know." She countered taking the drink and heading over to table five where a group of regulars were waiting.

Dean watched the way Regina's ass swayed in her tight jeans before turning his attention back to the class across the street. River herself had told him looking was fine but if he ever the got the itch to touch someone besides her ever again that was an official deal breaker. Class had ended and River was hugging and high-fiving her sore and sweaty students on their way out the door. They had a case at a drive in theater in the next town over. Something about a haunted movie projector; three people had already died in freak accidents involving the newly refurbished machine. Regina reappeared in front of him smiling coyly and blocking the line of sight on his wife. "Listen, if you ever need a break from married life call me…" She scribbled a phone number onto her order pad, ripped off the top sheet and stuck it in the pocket of Dean's shirt. "I bet I could give you a night you wouldn't forget." She ran one manicured hand down his firm forearm before standing on her toes to peck his stubbled cheek with her blood-red lips.

"Regina, look, you're a nice girl-" Dean said placing his hands on her shoulders and backing away from her. The door clanged open before Dean could continue and in walked River, duffle bag slung over her shoulder. "Hey Princess, need a beer?" He asked untangling himself from Regina's grip and slipping around the bar.

"Hell yeah, the fucking A/C in the studio is still out. I'm all hot and bothered and date night hasn't even started yet." River replied smiling as Dean swept her up into his arms kissing her like he hadn't seen her in weeks. Kissing her like they were the only two in the bar and not like the extra dirty martini drinking ladies at table five were ogling them. He nibbled on River's lower lip making her moan and used the opportunity to slip his tongue along hers. He was putting on a show and he knew it; he opened his eyes and met Reginas steely stare over River's copper hair. He wanted her to watch. Part of him, all of a sudden, wanted her to walk over and join in. He shook his head. "Where the fuck did that come from?" He thought to himself.

"Fuck me, Winchester." River mumbled as he slowly pulled away from her. She swooned on her feet, her brain still trying to catch up with her racing heart.

"After the movie, you can count on it," He murmured in her ear, his eyes again being drawn back to Regina.

"Now that's what I call a 'how do you do!" One of the ladies at table five cat called.

River blushed. "I'm gonna go get changed…for date night." She ran her hands up chest. Dean ran his teeth over his bottom lip half wanting to drag her into the bathroom for a down and dirty quickie but there were too many eyes watching. Before his little brain could decide for them River turned and walked away, still blushing as she passed the table of giggling sixty year old ladies. Dean walked back to the bar where Mac had two glasses of their favorite beers waiting. Dean sipped at his slowly, eyes drifting over the edge of his glass to the opposite end of the bar where Regina was counting her tips. He remembered her offer but not what he was going to tell her. His took another long swallow of beer to get his mind as far from Regina as possible. The ladies from table five finished their martinis and staggered out of the bar just as River returned from the restroom.

"Son of a bitch," he mumbled under his breath. River had changed into a dark denim skirt that ended mid thigh paired with a Led Zeppelin tank top; her version of legit 'date night' clothes instead of dressing for a salt and burn. "You remember where we're going tonight, sweetheart?"

She smiled over her beer, finishing it before answering him. "Yeah, sexy. You're taking me to the movies. Thought you might want a snack during intermission."

The drive-in was playing a special double- double feature: 'Q-the Flying Serpent' and 'Motel Hell' on one screen and a couple of Nicholas Sparks romances on the other screen. Lucky for River and Dean, the haunted movie projector was being used to show the shitty romance flicks and not the horror movies. They got to the projection room just before the poor sap in charge of running the film was about to be scalped. His long, luscious pony tail had somehow got stuck in the reel-to-reel mechanism. River grabbed the man, slicing through his ponytail with her bowie knife as Dean kicked the murderous machine to the ground. A little salt, a lot of lighter fluid and a few choice curse words when his book of matches wouldn't light later and the remaining employees of 'Daves Down Home Drive-In' were safe. Dean took it as a double win because they also saved the audience from sitting through the Nicholas Sparks movies.

And they only missed the first twenty minutes of 'Q-The flying Serpent'. Dean decided not to wait for intermission, they'd seen both movies enough times to have them memorized before pulling her across the seat and onto his lap. Dean hadn't felt like this in months. The burning, aching need to be inside her. Not saying they didn't have sex because they did. A lot of it, as often as possible between life, work and hunting. This was different, he needed her like he needed air. Needed to feel her cum, to have her hot, velvet smooth inner muscles convulse around him, to hear her scream his name. He sucked dark marks into her neck as River undid his belt, he sat up just enough to push his jeans down a few inches so she could free his aching cock. He dug his hands into the soft flesh of her ass and thrust her down in one harsh movement making her cry out in a mixture of pain and pleasure.

"You think they care everyone is watching them and not the movie?" Christian asked. Sam shrugged at this third cousin, twice removed. His eyes drifted over the few cars in the dark lot, several occupants of different cars were indeed openly watching what was transpiring in the front seat of the 1967 Impala and definitely not watching as the Aztec deity terrorized Manhattan on the giant drive-in screen.

Dean and River had dispatched the evil spirt clinging to the movie projector with near clinical efficiency. Samuel would be pleased. His grandfather, however, would not be pleased if that Succubus posing as a waitress had infected Dean with her poison. He was a skilled hunter, albeit rusty from any big cases, but he should have been able to spot a Succubus. Sam wasn't sure yet if his big brother was suffering the effects of Succubus poisoning or was just in a particularly exhibitionist mood. "They're done." He said as the Impala growled to life and Dean kicked it into reverse. Sam didn't duck or try to hide his face, he and his cousin would be hidden from view through the tinted windows of his car.

Dean wasn't done. He pulled over two times during the forty five minute drive back to their cabin. Each time pouncing on River with barely a warning, pulling her hips or flipping her into her hands and knees before pushing into her. His skin burned, chest tightening until he felt like he was suffocating, then the feel of her skin and her hot, wet core gave him life; pulled him back from some painful gaping chasm he felt pulling at his soul. "Are you ok?" She asked pulling her skirt back down as he drove back onto the quiet road. They had only briefly noticed one pair of headlights blaze past causing River to freeze under him, afraid they were about to be caught by a pissed off Sheriffs deputy like a couple of horny teenagers out past curfew.

"Yeah. You?" He answered turning the volume up on the radio not waiting for her reply.

She swept her sex-messed hair up into a knot with one hand and turned the volume back down on the radio with the other. "Tonight…this…you've been….insatiable."

Dean snorted, "Insatiable. Is that your 'Jeopardy' word for today?"

"I'm serious Alex Trebeck." River said glaring at him. "You haven't been like this in months…I'm not complaining about the orgasms. Thank you, in fact. Thank you very much for the dozen or so. I wasn't counting or anything-"

"I was." He cut in.

River slapped his arm, "God damn it D. I'm being fucking serious. Are. You. O.K.? It's Sammy's birthday next week and we've been so good. Everything has been amazing and I'm here for you."

"I know you are, Sweetheart. But I'm good. Everything is good. It's just…it's you in that god damn skirt," He murmured adjusting the growing bulge in his pants. He flicked the turn signal on and steered the Impala toward the side of the road.

"Whoa, hang tight cowboy," she said holding her hands up in 'time-out'. "I need a shower. And some food. And a nap…"

Dean shook his head, "Shower, only if I get to join you. Snack maybe. You can nap tomorrow." He turned off the two lane highway and onto the winding dirt road that led to their cabin. "I got plans for you." He promised as the car rolled to a stop outside of their home. The lake behind the cabin was calm and quiet, the moon reflecting off its still surface and through the canopy of trees. Dean got out of the car first, stretching and adjusting the gun still tucked against his back. River sighed, a knot of worry growing in her belly. Leave it to her to get anxious about too much amazing sex with her gorgeous, green eyed husband.

The moment she stepped out of the car Dean swept her up and over his shoulder. "God damn it, Dean. Put me down." River yelled as Dean strode towards the house. One of his large hands snaking up her bare thigh and under her skirt, the other fishing around his jacket pocket for the house key.

"You think she knows somethings up?" Christian asked.

Sam pulled the binoculars away from his eyes. "Probably."

"We wait?"

Sam nodded his head, "Samuel said to hang back. Wait for Dean to lead us to their nest."

Christian nodded taking the binoculars from Sam. "They fuck like porn stars." He murmured to himself, watching as Dean fucked River on a kitchen counter, the big window over the kitchen sink giving Christian and Sam a clear view of the kitchen and part of a dark hallway. Dean carried River out of the kitchen and the pair disappeared towards their bedroom.

"If he's infected with the Succubus' poison he'll need to get to her soon. The pain will get to bad, fucking hers the only thing that gonna make it better."

Christian lit a cigarette, "Or if he gets the antidote, right? Then he won't need to fuck the Succubus bitch 'cause she'll just end up killing him then."

Sam nodded, "Yeah. The antidote should work too." He checked his watch and sighed, still a few hours before dawn. If Dean was infected, screwing River wasn't going to give him much more relief. He'd be drawn to the Succubus or die a very painful death.

"Dean, I'm serious. I need a break!" River said pushing Dean away from her. He'd barely let her catch her breath and take a shaky sip of water before he was pawing at her again. His pupils were huge black wells almost completely hiding the forest green of his irises. She wasn't gonna lie it had been a fun night; hunting things, saving people followed by too many orgasms to count. Except it wasn't fun anymore, she was tired and sore; muscles she didn't know could get sore were screaming at her. Her nerves were fried, everywhere Dean touched and sucked and licked was buzzing with over stimulation. And he still wouldn't stop. He was getting worse but she couldn't figure out why or what was causing it. She thought for a while maybe Dean had scored some Viagra from Mac, they had joked about trying it before but the discussion had never gone any further. She knew now it wasn't drugs, it was something else, something bad. Something that was making him act like this, act like he was in pain anytime he wasn't balls deep inside of her. She needed to get away from him, consider her options and find a way to fix him.

Dean shook his head, "No. I need you, Baby." He grabbed her hips and pulled her towards him, one hand already lining himself up to push inside her.

"No! Dean, get the fuck off of me. I've had enough. Something is wrong!" She yelled pushing her knees together and forcing Dean back. Dean sneered in pain as his skin burned, pressure built in his head and a vice circled his heart. A voice whispered in his head, tickling his eardrums the only way to make the pain go away was to go to Regina. Let her help him find the release he couldn't get from his wife.

"Just one more time," He murmured trying his best to ignore the voice in his head as River tried to squirm out from under him. He pried her knees apart, forcing his hips between them to keep them open. He snatched both her wrists in one of his hands pinning them above her head.

Fear kicked into overdrive. This wasn't her husband. This wasn't the man she loved and trusted unconditionally. He was someone else, controlled by something unseen. "Dean! Stop! You're hurting me!" He wasn't listening, to intent on trying to get inside of her, she bucked and twisted her hips trying to throw him off.

"Fucking stop moving!" He growled in her face pressing her further down into the mattress. She reacted out of instinct swinging her head up, her forehead connecting with his nose. Dean let out a startled grunt, his hand letting go of her wrists and cradling his bruised nose. River got her knees under his chest and pushed him the rest of the way off of her. She rolled off the bed and onto the floor reaching for the bottle of holy water and the guns they had stashed underneath. She was on her feet in an instant twisting the jar open and throwing the Holy Water at Dean. He spluttered in surprise, the cold water dripping off his swelling nose. "You god damn bitch! If you aren't gonna give me what I need I'll go to someone who will." He stood up, still dripping holy water and grabbed his discarded jeans off from the floor. He pulled them on followed by his boots and turned to leave.

"Dean, what the fuck?" River yelled after him. She grabbed one of the guns before running naked after him down the hallway. Dean was in the kitchen texting someone. "Dean, this is not you. You are fucking hexed or something!"

His phone buzzed and he smiled. "I'm outta here." He told her grabbing his car keys and heading towards the front door still bare chested and his boots untied. He made halfway to the door before River swung the butt of the pistol and connected with his temple. He crumpled face first in the entryway.

"Fuck!" River yelled into the empty cabin. She grabbed Dean's wrinkled flannel shirt from where he'd tossed it on the back of the couch and put it on. It hung to just above her knees and did very little to warm the frightened chills running up her spine. Dean's phone buzzed with another text message. River grabbed his phone along with the Impala's keys. Someone had sent Dean a series of increasingly graphic nude pictures and an address. "Son of a bitch." She hissed scrolling through Dean's contacts until she found Bobby's number. The older hunter answered on the fourth ring.

"Dean, son, do you know what god damn time it is?" He grumbled into the phone.

"It's not Dean, Papa Bear. But Dean's in trouble." River answered.

"Ah Hell, sweetheart. What's he done now?"

River slipped her feet into her discarded Chuck Taylors, stepped over Deans sprawled body and ran outside to the waiting car. From their vantage point, Sam and Christian saw River running towards the car, balancing a cellphone against her shoulder as she dug around the Impala's vast trunk. Cradling an armload of various bottles, books and boxes of assorted ingredients she headed back inside. "Fuck, I think we should call Samuel. Tell him to head here." Sam said angrily. "We're gonna have to figure out another way to track that fucking Succubus."

River dumped her armload of spell supplies onto the couch and ran back to Dean. She slapped a pair of handcuffs around his wrists just as he started to stir. "I need…to go…" He slurred trying to sit up.

"No you don't. You need to stay right the fuck in this salt circle so I figure outta a way to fix you," River replied dragging him by one leg to the center of the room all the while still frantically telling Bobby what had happened. "You think it's a fucking hex, Papa Bear? Like a fucking-hex?"

"Balls…I dunno girl. I can make a couple phone calls." He answered.

River let out a long breath, pushing sweaty hair out of her face, "Bobby I just-" Dean curled into a tight ball on the floor and let out an ear piercing scream of pain. "Dean!" River dropped the phone and ran back to him. He screamed again, his eyes rolled wildly and he thrashed against the handcuffs. "Baby, you're burning up. Who is she? Who's the bitch on the phone? I need to know what I'm fighting here!"

"Re-Regina, I need Regina…" Dean ground out through clenched teeth.

River sat back on her heels, "Regina? The waitress at Mac's? That bitch is dead…" Dean screamed again and she dug through the ingredients she'd pilfered from the car, mixing what she hoped would be a counter curse to whatever Regina had done to him or at least buy them a little time until she could go kill the bitch. Dean's screams drown out the sound of tires rolling to a stop outside their cabin.

Sam's phone rang just as Samuel slid open the panel door on his white van and stepped out. "Bobby? What do you want?"

"What do I want? Your brother has been cursed with I don't know what and I want to know how fast you can get there because I'm nine hours out and he ain't gonna last that long by the sound of it." Bobby snapped.

Sam rolled his eyes and gabbed the syringe of antidote Samuel had brought them. "He isn't cursed. He's poisoned and I'm about 90 seconds from kicking in his front door." Sam didn't let any of that sink in before he hung up without saying goodbye. Part of him knew that was rude, that Bobby deserved better. The other part of him didn't care. Dean screamed again, follow by River's panicked voice raising in octaves as she chanted something in Enochian.

River drew a deep shakey breath to restart the summoning spell for Castiel again. Her prayers to the Angel had gone unanswered for months, so the feathered asshole that used to be their friend was going to get heavenly crank calls until he showed his tan trench coat and healed Dean. She was out of ideas, Dean was fading and she wouldn't be able to find Regina and beat the cure for whatever ailed him out of her before he died. "I summon thee Casi-" The front door splintered in wards, a brief flash of moonlight as three bodies surged inside the ragged opening. River screamed in shock, the summoning spell dying in throat as she dove for her discarded gun. Her fingers curled around the trigger and she fired a half dozen shots, making the men still hidden in shadows dive for cover. "You came to wrong fucking house assholes!" She yelled scooting backwards to check Dean.

"Put the gun down. We're here to help!" A strangers voice called from the safety of the front porch.

"The fuck you are! Did Regina send you?" River yelled back crouching low and duckwalking towards where the front door used to be. A huge shadow dove at her from behind the couch, his huge hulking weight pinning her to the floor. "Son of a bitch! If he dies I will rip all of you apart!" River screamed into the long, shaggy hair covering her assailants face. One of his huge hands wrenched the pistol away from her and tossed it into the darkness behind him. She got her other hand free and swung it at the mans jaw.

"Damn it!" Sam swept his hair out of face and screamed at her. "River, will you knock it the fuck off! Dean doesn't have time for anymore of your bullshit!"


End file.
